


New Life, Same Soul

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Kinktober 2018 [7]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, background merlahad, body swap shenanigans, implied recovering alcoholic but its very subtle and minor, implied trans!harry, james is now gazelle, you know gazelle?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16222643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Alistair discovers that James survived Argentina...in an unusual way.





	New Life, Same Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Day seven was body swap! I was all set to do this massive roxlivia/tequila sunrise thing and then stravaganza (I think?) started talking to me about percilot, and that idea took over. Don't expect me to explain why Gazelle and James swapped bodies, there is none. Just Alistair dicking down his husband in a new body. 
> 
> This is...yeah, this is pretty much crack. Hope you like it!

Alistair stared down at the tumbler in his hand. It was half-empty. There were a lot of half-empty glasses in his life at the moment. Harry, of course, would have told him that particular glass wasn’t so much half-empty as “that’s far too much scotch for a glass like that you heathen, it’s not a cup of coffee,” but he wouldn’t have touched the other, more figurative glass with a ten-foot pole. Or, more accurately, a long, sharp blade.

Alistair downed the remaining scotch in one burning gulp, fighting the urge to choke on it. There. Glass was empty.

James would be disappointed in him. He was only half a bottle in, and James had seen him far worse, but it still felt like admitting defeat. But what did defeat matter when the only prize worth fighting for was gone? Sobriety didn’t seem particularly important at the moment.

Just the one bottle, he told himself. James would understand.

He almost missed the sound of knocking, an insistent rap at his door that he proceeded to ignore. Merlin or Harry, most likely, coming to check up on him. Possibly to make sure he’d actually picked a candidate for his lover’s replacement. Well, they didn’t have to worry. He’d already phoned Roxy, and she would perform just as amazingly as his husband always had. They’d practically raised her, after all.

The knocking persisted, and instead of pouring another glass of scotch Alistair thunked it down onto the table with a groan, hauling himself to his feet. Staggering to the door, less out of drunkenness - he was hardly tipsy, and that was the real curse – and more out of hope that if he took long enough the person would leave him alone, he wrenched it open and bit out, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

It wasn’t Merlin or Harry. In fact, Alistair actually had to look down to look the person in the eye. She was a shorter woman, with long dark hair and darker eyes and, most concerningly, a pair of prosthetic limbs that ended in a pair of long, thin knives. The sort of blade that could slice a man in half. Alistair’s heart missed a beat as he remembered how James’s body had looked when they’d retrieved it, and he reached for the gun in his shoulder holster instinctively.

He wasn’t wearing it. He was unarmed.

The woman lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed, and for a split-second Alistair could swear the look was familiar. “Really, darling,” she said. “I know you must have been terribly distressed, but I had hoped that you’d hold out a little longer before hitting the bottle.”

Alistair blinked. “What?”

She reached up to cradle his cheek, shaking her head and looking sad. Alistair was too startled to push away the touch as she said, “I’m not upset, darling. Honestly, I’m not even really that surprised. But you were doing so well, and I hate to think that I led you back to this.”

“I don’t understand.” She didn’t seem interested in hurting him, but nothing she said made any sense.

“Alistair, it’s me.”

“Do I know you?”

The affronted look was so, _so_ familiar, but Alistair couldn’t place it. But then it disappeared, a patient look of sympathy replacing it. “I can’t explain it, but it’s _me_ , darling. The body they found? It wasn’t me anymore. Something happened…switched us, I think. And now I’m here.”

But…she was implying… “…James?”

She beamed. “That’s right!”

Alistair took a step back, so she was no longer touching him. “That’s impossible. You can’t be him.”

Her face fell, and she stepped forward to follow him. He blocked her when she went to cross the threshold, and she froze. “Alistair, darling, let me prove it to you. Please.”

“How?”

She lifted her eyebrows again, and _oh,_ that was why it looked familiar. It was like looking a copy of James’s facial expressions on somebody else’s face. “We’re spies, darling. How else?” She rocked back on her metal heels and offered, “Ask me something about our relationship. Personal, professional…anything only I could know.” At Alistair’s sharp look, she amended, “Anything only _James_ would know.”

“When is our anniversary?”

“We could never decide. I always insist our relationship started when we had to shag in a bathroom on that mission in Bolivia to keep our cover from being blown, but you always say that doesn’t count because we didn’t actually start dating until over a year later.”

“And who won the betting pool about when we would start dating?”

“Merlin did. Although Harry always insists he cheated somehow to get us together.”

“Final question: which one of us is Roxy’s biological father?”

A sly smile spread across her lips, again so much like James that Alistair swallowed hard as he waited for the answer. “Well,” she said slowly. “Her mother is your biological sister, so when she and her wife were trying to get pregnant everyone assumed you would be the donor. The four of us are the only ones who know that I actually donated the sample to conceive her. I really can’t argue family resemblance anymore, can I?”

“ _James?_ ”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, darling,” he said. He glanced down at himself, then up at Alistair sheepishly. “I know. It’s a little strange. Honestly, I’m not sure I like the body myself.”

“James,” Alistair repeated.

James stepped over the threshold – Alistair let him – and drew him into his arms. The position felt a little awkward with the height difference, but James had always been the shorter one anyway. “I’m still here,” James promised, holding him close. He tilted his head up for a kiss, and Alistair met him halfway. The position was unfamiliar, but the kiss was exactly like Alistair remembered.

So was the way James moaned into it, wrapping an arm around Alistair’s neck and stretching up as much as he could. Alistair pushed him against the wall, pressing closer, and James made an appreciative sound as Alistair deepened the kiss, needing to be as connected to his partner as possible, as if any space between them might make James disappear from his arms.

“ _Oh_ ,” James gasped, rutting up against him. “That’s new.” He reached down to press a hand between his legs, and Alistair tracked the movement before his gaze returned to James’s face. James gave him a smirk. “I kind of like it.” He reached out and palmed at Alistair’s crotch, and then frowned when there was no response.

Alistair stepped back, swallowing hard. James’s face fell. He looked down at himself, then back up at Alistair. “Is it the body?” he asked softly.

Alistair shook his head. “It’s not that.” The packaging didn’t really matter all that much to him. His husband was inside it, and that was the important thing.

James didn’t look like he believed him. “Darling, I’m still me. I’m still a man. I know it might be a bit off-putting-“

“I told you, it’s not that.” Alistair sighed. “I think I’m still a bit in shock, love. I thought you were dead, and now you’re back in the body of the person who killed you and it’s just…it’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh.”

“We can still have sex. Just…can I sit down for a minute?”

James laughed and shook his head. “Always the pragmatist.” He led the way to the living room, the metal legs clicking against the floor. As Alistair sat down on the sofa, James scooped up the glass and the bottle of scotch and disappeared down the hallway again. Alistair didn’t have to hear it to know he was pouring it down the sink.

When James came back, he moved like he was going to straddle Alistair, and then thought better of it, taking a seat next to him instead. Alistair put his head in his hands and was surprised to feel a tear leak out of his eye.

James was evidently surprised too, because he said, “You’re crying. You never cry.”

Alistair straightened up and wiped it away. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s a bit much, I think.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head firmly. “It’s not your fault. Believe me, I’d much rather have you like this than not have you at all.”

James leaned into him, resting his head on Alistair’s shoulder. “I missed you. I wanted to stick around in Argentina, to wait for extraction, but Valentine wouldn’t let me out of his sight for ages.”

“You’re here now,” Alistair said. He didn’t know who Valentine was, but he suspected he’d find out eventually.

James took his hand, their fingers twining over Alistair’s knee. “I’m here,” he repeated. “I’m _here_ , darling.”

Alistair turned his head, and James was so close that he couldn’t help it. He kissed him again. James tried to keep this kiss chaste this time, obviously trying not to overwhelm him, but something inside Alistair shifted, his blood suddenly surging in his ears, hot and wild, and he let go of James’s hand, instead grabbing his face with both hands and biting down hard on his bottom lip. James’s mouth fell open in surprise, and he threw a leg over Alistair’s lap, straddling him eagerly as Alistair licked into his mouth, exploring the new shape of it, tracing over the back of his teeth.

James let out a strange mewling sound, something akin to a squeal of surprise, slotting himself against Alistair’s crotch as his cock started to thicken. “Al,” he breathed. “ _Darling_.”

Alistair pulled him tighter to him, a hand moving to the small of his back so he could encourage James to rock against him. It felt different and a little strange. There was no answering hardness pressed into his hip, even though James was making all the sounds of arousal Alistair was accustomed to hearing – although at a slightly higher pitch. James gripped the back of his neck, but his fingernails were longer, pricking into Alistair’s skin and sending sparks down and his spine and straight to his cock. It was different, but it was still so fucking good.

Which is why he actually growled in frustration when his glasses crackled to life. “Alistair?”

“Fuck off, Merlin,” he snarled, tangling his fingers in James’s long hair and tugging sharply. James had loved it before, when his hair was almost too short to grip. The sound he made now was absolutely pornographic, and it made Alistair’s cock throb eagerly. “I’m busy.”

“Busy with what?” Merlin sounded suspicious. “Is someone with you?”

Leaning forward to speak into Alistair’s ear, so the glasses mic would pick up the words crystal clearly, James said, “He’ll have to call you back.”

“Who the fuck is that?” Alistair couldn’t even be surprised to hear Harry’s voice over Merlin’s channel. “Is that a woman? I know you’re in mourning but-”

“I’m still fucking gay,” Alistair snapped.

“And he’s about to be fucking me,” James added, a shit-eating grin on his face. Alistair would have rolled his eyes, but he was more interested in rolling his hip, arching up into James as James rocked down against his lap. James’s eyes lit up, “Oh! Harry! You mentioned the multiple orgasms thing once – is that really true? Because if so, this is going to be a lot of fun.”

There was dead silence over the coms. Then Harry said, “Is that James?”

“How the fuck could that be James?” Merlin said. “It’s…”

“A long story,” James cut in. “And one I don’t have time for, because I have my desperately horny husband between my legs, and I think some ‘I’m not dead’ reunion sex is in order.”

There was a bit of spluttering over the coms, mostly from Merlin. Harry got himself together first and said, “For the love of god, make sure you use condoms. The last thing we need is Alistair knocking you up.”

“Of course.” James breath hitched as Alistair pulled his hair again, and he dropped a placating kiss on his husband’s lips. “Any other tips? Al and I don’t exactly have much…well, frankly any experience involving sex with a vagina, so anything you could tell us-“

They could almost hear the eyeroll as Harry cut him off. “If Merlin could figure it out, you can too.”

“I expect a full explanation of what the fuck happened in Argentina tomorrow morning,” Merlin added.

James glanced down at Alistair and smirked. “Perhaps tomorrow afternoon.”

Merlin groaned. “You know what? I don’t care.” The line cut out.

James’s grin widened, and he pulled off Alistair’s glasses, tossing them aside. “Alone at last.”

“Finally,” Alistair growled. He was aching, his cock leaking a steady stream of precum into his pants as James ground teasingly against him. “Bed?” He didn’t wait for a reply, and James was so much easier to scoop up like this, much lighter even with the metal legs – Alistair had just enough blood flow above his belt to remember to keep his hands clear of the blades – and carry to their bedroom.

James bounced a bit when he hit the bed, and then Alistair was crawling on top of him, pressing him into the mattress. James fumbled between them, fighting to get Alistair’s belt undone, while Alistair busied himself with biting kisses into James’s neck.

“A little help here, darling?”

Alistair reared up on his knees, snapping the belt from its loops and tearing at his shirt without caring as the buttons popped off. James raised his eyebrows, but Alistair ignored him in favour of doing the same to his trousers, thankfully not tearing any of the seams this time as he shoved them and his pants down his legs and onto the floor.

“I love you like this,” James gasped. “I love you desperate for me.”

“I was in mourning, you arsehole,” Alistair growled. “I’m not desperate, I’m relieved.”

“Not yet,” James teased, getting a hand around Alistair’s cock and squeezing. “But I’ll take care of that.”

“You need to be naked.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

Together, they stripped James just as efficiently as Alistair had done – meaning what ended up on the floor were mostly unwearable scraps of fabric. James arched into the touch as Alistair ran a hand down his body, following it with his mouth, exploring the different shape of the flesh. He got a hand around the back of Alistair’s neck again, dragging him back up to kiss him. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, darling, but we’ll have plenty of time for exploring later.”

“James-“

“I’m soaking wet and I really just want your cock in me. I’d appreciate it if you obliged.”

Alistair groaned, fumbling for the nightstand. James beat him to it, snagging a condom and sheathing Alistair’s cock. Alistair reached down with a hand, finding James’s mound and pressing between the folds. James grabbed his wrist and hissed, and Alistair froze, until James guided his hand lower, and the flesh gave, two of Alistair’s fingers slipping inside him with no resistance.

James moaned, “Dear god, that’s good.”

Alistair withdrew his hand, gripping his cock and lining it up with James’s entrance. He wasted no time in pushing in, grunting as the wet heat gripped him, soft and slick as he sank inside. “Don’t stop,” James gasped. He tried to wrap a leg around Alistair, pushing at him with his heel to force him deeper, and Alistair hissed in pain as the sharp end stabbed shallowly into his side.

“Shit,” James yelped, and tried to withdraw, but Alistair ignored him, shoving his leg to the side and pinning it to the bed, and James let out a surprised cry of pleasure as he rocked out and drove the rest of his cock in, sheathing himself.

He held himself steady, even as he felt a rare wildness surge through him, in truth a desperation even if he didn’t want to admit it. He gritted his teeth. “Do you need a minute?”

“Fuck me.”

With great relief, Alistair obeyed, drawing out and jackhammering back in, setting a fast and hard pace that had James screaming his pleasure, head thrown back as Alistair yanked hard at his hair, hands clawing at Alistair’s back, his sharper nails leaving painful streaks. Alistair didn’t care. He had James under him, wrapped around him, and all that mattered was driving into his husband’s willing body, taking his own pleasure in unfamiliar flesh that housed an all-too-familiar spirit. He recognized every one of James’s cries, every gasp and choke and “ _harder_ , darling, I won’t break.”

He wasn’t going to last. He didn’t care about that either, nor did he think James did, not with the way his husband was moaning, telling him to “come inside me, _use me_ , take what you need.”

And Alistair did.

Even though he’d felt it building swiftly, his actual orgasm took him by surprise, whiting out his vision as he felt James’s body ripple around him, and he pressed his forehead into James’s shoulder and cried as his cock was milked, spilling into the condom.

He came to with James shushing him, stroking his cheek and hair, cooing softly. “It’s alright, darling. I’m here.” He’d said it often enough that night, but each time Alistair heard the words they mended a little piece of his heart, reassured him he wasn’t dreaming, that this was real, that James was _back_. He was back from death. Alistair hadn’t lost him after all.

He withdrew shakily, hands fumbling so badly that James took it upon himself to peel the condom off of Alistair’s cock, tying it expertly and tossing it in the vicinity of the trashcan. Alistair swallowed hard, and as his head cleared and the wildness faded away, he asked shakily, “Did you…I mean, I don’t…I didn’t…”

James smiled at him. “I came, if that’s what you’re asking.” He frowned. “Well, I think I did. It felt more or less the same.” He shrugged, and the grin returned. “We can try again later, just to make sure.” He reached for Alistair’s side. “Did I hurt you?”

Alistair touched the cut, twisting to look at it. It wasn’t deep; a tiny bit of blood had welled in it, but he would be fine. He didn’t think it would even require stitches. “I’m alright,” he said.

James scooted to the edge of the bed, wincing as his legs ripped at the covers. “I’ll have to get Merlin to fix that. Something a bit less stabby, I think. Let me get the first aid kit, and I’ll clean up that cut, make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

Alistair watched him go, something in his chest finally twisting and releasing, allowing him to breathe again. James returned, and he sat on the bed, guiding Alistair to stand in front of him as he dabbed at the wound and placed a bandage over it.

“What did happen in Argentina?”

James looked up at him. “I told you, I don’t really know-“

“Not the body thing. The mission.”

“Oh.” James sat back and began repacking the kit, and Alistair sat next to him. “Do you know Richmond Valentine?”

Alistair blinked. “The billionaire?”

James nodded. “He’s planning on culling the planet. Professor Arnold was taken because of his climate change research. Valentine wanted to spare him, put him in a vault somewhere when he unleashes…whatever it is he’s planning.”

Alistair’s blood ran cold. James continued, “I thought about killing him, but I didn’t think anyone was in immediate danger, and I thought I should consult with Merlin first.” He flushed, “Also, I think I was a bit in shock. And these legs are harder to work than you might think.”

Alistair reached out, running his fingers over the black plastic, feeling where it tapered into the metal. “Tomorrow we’ll go to Merlin and Arthur,” he said. “They’ll know what to do.”

James’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. He looked sad. “We can’t go to Arthur.”

“Why not?” But even as he said it, Alistair had a suspicion he already knew the answer.

“Valentine is collecting whoever he thinks important and bringing them in on his plan. Chester was on his list.”

“So just Merlin, then.”

James nodded. He gave Alistair a small smile. “But that’s tomorrow. We still have tonight. And I really did miss you.”

***

Having his husband go back to Valentine undercover was hard. Having Merlin and Harry be the only ones who knew was harder, because every time he looked at Roxy he remembered how he was lying to her. And hardest of all was have a secret within a secret organization, keeping their plan from Arthur and the other agents. But some things were bigger than all of them, and so long as Alistair had James back in his life, he would be okay.


End file.
